Reflections of Yesterday
“Glenn … stop, please. I feel guilty enough already.”
“No, let me finish. I want you to be happy, Angie. I wish I could say all the bitterness is out of me, but I can’t. That will come with time. The two of us having dinner is as much for me as you. Say you’ll come as a gesture toward the friendship we once shared.”
Angie studied him for a long time before speaking. “All right,” she agreed reluctantly.
“As friends,” Glenn reiterated.
“As friends,” she echoed softly.
The following morning Clay was much more himself. When Angie woke she found her father dominating the lone bathroom, humming to himself as he shaved. The round mirror above the sink was fogged up with steam from his recent shower.
“Better wipe that mirror off or you’ll cut yourself,” she quipped.
“I been shavin’ a lot more years that you been livin’. I know what I’m doing.”
Angie laughed and tightened the cinch of her robe. “Yes, Daddy dearest.” She was halfway into the kitchen before she realized that this was the first morning in weeks that they’d had a testing, loving conversation. Usually Clay lingered in bed, claiming that he was in terrible pain and accusing Angie of being no better than those uncaring nurses who didn’t give a hoot if he lived or died as long as his medical bills were paid. Angie had given up arguing with him for being so wrong and unreasonable.
She dressed in a simple two-piece skirt-and-blouse outfit of pale pink colors and returned to the kitchen to cook Clay breakfast.
“You’re looking might pretty today,” Clay commented. “Are you doing anything special tonight?” The intonation of his voice told her instantly that Glenn had discussed with Clay the fact that he was going to ask her to dinner.
“I might.”
“Might?”
“Glenn offered to take me to dinner tonight.” She decided to play Clay’s game and busily cracked two eggs against the side of a dish.
“Always did like that young man. A smart girl would know what she was turning down. All my days I thought I was raising me a smart girl, but—” Abruptly he stopped. “You goin’ to dinner with Glenn or not?”
“How could I possibly leave you? A loving daughter would never leave her father alone when he’s been so sick and near death.”
“Bah, I can take care of myself.” He dismissed her concern and sliced the air with a heavy hand for emphasis.
Holding back a laugh was nearly impossible. “You’ve been telling me for weeks that you’ve got one foot in the grave.”
Clay looked flustered, his impatience growing. “I feel better today.”
Angie studied him skeptically. His doctor’s appointment wasn’t until Monday, and at that not a minute too soon. Until Clay moved in, Angie hadn’t realized how much she treasured her privacy. This togetherness was slowly driving her crazy.
“I’m glad to hear that you’re more chipper today. Why don’t you take a nice walk this morning before it gets too hot and muggy?”
“I might,” Clay answered noncommittally.
“And I might go to dinner with Glenn.”
Clay’s fiery gaze clashed with hers. “Then I’ll go on that walk you’ve been pestering me about for the last few weeks.”
“Which means I’ll probably be late tonight.”
“Good.” Clay’s boyish smile went from ear to ear.
As it turned out, dinner with Glenn was the most relaxing night she’d spent in weeks, maybe even months. He could have taken her to an elegant restaurant and impressed her with wine and song. Instead he chose a Mexican place that was close to her apartment, where the food was fabulous and the atmosphere didn’t cost a dime.
“I’ll have you know that my agreeing to this dinner has gotten Dad out of the house for the first time since he left the hospital.”
One side of Glenn’s mouth lifted with a dry smile. “I thought it might. Your father’s quite a character.”
“I can imagine the things he told you about me last night.”
“He’s frightened, Angie. Frightened of losing you to Simon. Once you’re married, you’ll move to Groves Point and he’ll be left in Charleston alone. Losing you is his greatest fear. I don’t think he can bear the thought of being separated.”
“He can move back to Groves Point with me.”
“I know that,” Glenn replied calmly.
Warming to the subject, Angie clenched her fists. “Dad’s got some twisted emotions that need to be sorted through,” she declared hotly. Clay’s attitude on the subject of the Canfields was relentless. They never openly discussed Simon anymore. Yet the subject loomed between them like a concrete wall they each stepped around and couldn’t ignore. “Dad seems to think everyone in Groves Point knows what went on between Simon’s family and us. I’m confident that simply isn’t so.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Honestly, Glenn,” she returned angrily, “Quit being such a yes-man. It isn’t like you, and I don’t like it.”
Glenn burst into laughter as he placed his napkin beside his plate, his eyes avoiding hers.
Recognizing that he was simply letting her blow off a little steam, Angie felt sheepish. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Quit being so nice,” she snapped playfully.
Shaking his head, Glenn rolled his dark eyes at the revolving ceiling fan. “It’s little wonder Clay complains. There’s no satisfying you, is there?”
It felt so good to laugh again that Angie’s heart swelled with appreciation for this man who was more friend than she had ever known or deserved. She wasn’t completely sure of Glenn’s motives. In that respect, he worried her. No one was that wonderful. There had to be something that he expected in return for this. Quickly, Angie discarded the thought, disliking the cynical meanderings her mind had taken lately, and concentrated on having a good time for the rest of the evening.
The following day she sent Glenn a basket of fruit and a brief note as a thank-you for their evening together.
Glenn stopped by the apartment Thursday after work and took Clay out for a walk. Clay didn’t look pleased when Angie declined the invitation to join them. Instead she took a leisurely bath, painted her nails, and phoned Simon. The evening was young, and she wasn’t surprised that she didn’t catch him.
When he phoned her at the shop at their regular time the next morning, she mentioned her call.
“Believe me, I could have used a sweet voice to clear away the insanity,” Simon murmured. “Has Clay moved out? You seem to have some free time in the evenings of late.”
“Monday,” she whispered, purposely avoiding his question. “His appointment with the doctor is the twenty-fifth.”
“Believe me, love, the minute he’s given a clean bill of health I’m coming to get you. We’re going to get married as fast as I can make the arrangements.”
“My head is swimming just thinking about it.”
“Honey, listen, I’m not making any concrete promises, but I’m doing everything I can to clear Saturday.”
Angie felt ridiculously close to tears. Even a few hours in his arms would be enough to wipe out several days of bickering with Clay. “I’ll ask Glenn to keep Clay occupied so we can spend more than an hour or so together.”
A heavy, stone silence stretched over the line.
“Glenn?”
How stupid she’d been to mention him. She didn’t want to hide the fact she was seeing him, but she would rather not have discussed it with Simon over the telephone. “Yes, he’s the one who’s responsible for—”
“You’ve been seeing Glenn?”
The ice in his voice sent chills up Angie’s spine. “Not the way you’re implying.”
“What’s going on?”
Slowly, Angie mentally counted to ten before answering. “He’s been helping me with Clay.”
“I’ll just bet.”
Angie’s temples began to throb and she pr
essed two fingers to them to ease the pounding ache. “A customer just came in … I’ve got to go.”
“Angie,” Simon breathed impatiently. “I didn’t mean anything. I think we’re both going a little crazy.”
“You might be able to come Saturday?”
“I’m coming.” He didn’t leave any room for speculation. He was going to be there, and her heart throbbed with anticipation.
“You’ll phone me when you get into town, then? I’ll be in the shop until noon.”
Simon hesitated. “I’ll phone.”
If Angie felt guilty about going out to dinner with Glenn, it was nothing compared to what she felt when she asked him if he’d mind keeping her father occupied while she met Simon Saturday afternoon.
Simon hadn’t contacted her by the time she left the shop Saturday, which meant he’d probably catch her at the apartment. Normally this would have been a cause for concern, but Glenn and Clay were going for a long drive and would be leaving shortly after Angie arrived back at the apartment.
Their mood was light and teasing when she sauntered in a little after one o’clock.
“Beautiful day, Angie girl. Are you going to join us this time?” Clay asked her on a cheerful note. “Can’t see you wasting away in a stuffy apartment when two handsome men are eager for your company.”
She was pleased at the color in Clay’s cheeks. “Another time, Dad.” She shared a conspiratorial smile with Glenn.
“We’ll catch her another day,” Glenn interjected.
“But I thought she’d want to come along today.” Clay pursed his lips like a discontented child who had been outwitted by his parents.
“I’ll join you another day,” Angie promised.
“But what are you going to do that’s so all-fired important that you can’t come with us?” Clay insisted.
Angie looked imploringly to Glenn, but was saved from answering by the doorbell.
Clay stood closest, and swung open the door. Angie couldn’t see who it was since Clay was blocking her view. But her father’s body language gave her all the clues she needed.
“Hello, Angie.” Simon stepped around her father and gave her a phony smile. His gaze went from Clay to Glenn. “I hope I’m not intruding on anything important,” he said.
Thirteen
Simon recognized immediately that by arriving unannounced to the apartment he’d done the wrong thing. The hurt and confused look in Angie’s eyes sliced into him. His gaze clashed with Glenn’s as he avoided looking toward Angie. Earlier, he’d tried her cell, but it had gone directly to voice mail. He was dying for the sight of her. For weeks he’d dreamed of taking her in his arms and loving her until they were both sated and exhausted. Every minute apart these past weeks had been torture. Yet Angie had gone back to the apartment without waiting to talk to him and that rankled.
“Simon,” Angie said, her dark eyes round and imploring. “What are you doing here? I thought …”
“Sneaking behind my back.” Clay’s pale face turned to his daughter with a hurt look that went far deeper than words. “You two were going to sneak behind my back.”
Glenn took the old man’s hand and lowered him into the cushioned chair. “Maybe this is the time for the three of you to sit down and talk things out.”
Angie’s bewildered gaze went from her father’s ashen features to the intent look marking Simon’s features. She stood defenseless between the two of them, knowing that she was about to be forced into taking sides. To one she was a puppet, pulled by the strings of guilt and duty. To the other, impatient in his way, she was a love long lost.
Clay crossed his arms over his chest and looked straight ahead with stony eyes. Anger and bitterness emanated from every pore. “There’s nothing left to say.”
“Dad, stop acting like a two-year-old,” Angie said, looking desperately to Simon. “Why did you come here now, like this? Couldn’t you have waited until Clay was well?”
“I believe I’ll leave this to the three of you to settle,” Glenn murmured, heading toward the door. “Good luck.”
Simon watched the other man’s departure with a sinking feeling. Glenn did indeed love Angie. Far beyond what Simon had suspected. He would like to hate the man, but discovered that he couldn’t. Instead, a grudging respect came, and he wondered if he could have been half as decent over this situation as Glenn. With that realization came another. Glenn wasn’t coming around Clay and Angie for his health. Obviously the man thought there was still a chance he could win Angie. Glenn wasn’t a masochist, nor stupid. He was standing ready to pick up the pieces. And now, in his impatience, Simon had fallen directly into the other man’s hands.
“Simon, maybe it would be best if we sat down. We should be able to reach some kind of understanding.” Angie’s words helped clear the fog in his mind.
“All right.” He moved into the room and took a seat on the sofa. For the first time he studied Angie and was mildly shocked to see how tired and run-down she looked. The faint purple smudges under her eyes were artfully camouflaged with makeup. Her mouth drooped just enough for him to recognize that she was struggling with her composure. By forcing the issue today, he’d done nothing but increase the pressure on her. Silently, he cursed himself.
“I owe you an apology for showing up like this.” Simon directed his words to the stiff, motionless man who sat across from him.
Again Angie turned questioning, hurt eyes to Clay and Simon. She could see talking would do no good. “Then why did you?”
“I want to marry you, Angie. I’m tired of meeting in hotel rooms. We’re consenting adults. There shouldn’t be any reason in this world to keep us apart any longer, and if that means forcing Clay to accept certain truths, so be it.”
Clay gasped and his eyes narrowed into thin, accusing slits as they centered on his daughter. “So you’ve been giving yourself to him. Again.”
Angie dropped her face to her hands, and again Simon realized that every time he opened his mouth, he was only making things worse for Angie.
“Is this the way I raised you, Daughter?” Clay asked in a choked voice that was barely above a whisper. “Your mama, God rest her soul, was a lady. I tried my hardest to raise you to be just like her. Until now, I didn’t realize how miserably I’ve failed.”
“It isn’t like that.” Angie moved from the sofa and took her father’s hands in her own. “I don’t know why Simon is doing this, but—”
“I’m doing this because we shouldn’t need to hide the fact we’re in love. From the time we were kids we belonged together. As long as I breathe, nothing’s going to stand in the way of our happiness.”
“Simon …” Angie ground out his name. “Don’t say anything more. You’re only making matters worse.” Could he be so blind as not to see what he was doing to her? She was Clay’s daughter, and although he was playing on his recent illness to keep her apart from Simon, that wasn’t any reason to drive a wedge between her and her only relative.
Frustrated, Simon rolled to his feet and buried his hands in his pockets. “Listen, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to show up like this. Maybe I should have been patient and played it cool. But for how much longer?”
“Only a few days. A week at the most,” Angie cried, not bothering to disguise her hurt.
“Just who are you trying to kid?” Simon asked, watching her closely. He hated to see her on her knees, groveling at her father’s feet. “Do you honestly believe that Clay’s going to let us find any happiness together? I can guarantee that there’ll always be another reason to prevent our marriage.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Angie, look at him. He’s never going to give his approval.”
Angie shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Yes, he will,” she cried. “In time.”
“I’m through waiting,” Simon said on a cold, sober note. “I want us to get married now.”
“It’ll only be a little while,” she pleaded.
Simon released a l
ow moan of frustration. Angie was living in a dream world. “The doctor will gave Clay a clean bill of health soon, and immediately after that something else will magically appear to delay our marriage.”
“That’s pure conjecture.”
“That’s fact,” he shouted in return. “We’re adults. I’m through with living my life to satisfy parents. I want us to be married and I want it now. Are you with me or not?”
Angie hesitated, slid her eyes closed, and inhaled deeply. Here it was. She’d known from the minute Simon stepped in the doorway that it was coming. With everything that they’d shared, she would have thought he’d know not to do this. The impatient, frustrated man standing over her wasn’t the Simon she loved. This was a man driven to the limits of his patience, irrational and demanding.
“You can’t ask me to do this. Not now.”
Simon paused. “When?”
“I … I don’t know.”
In a blinding flash he knew that he was right. Angie was tied to her father and the bonds were far stronger than he’d realized. In pitting himself against the old man, Simon would lose the very thing he treasured most in life. He had to reach Clay.
Simon took a seat across from Angie’s father and swallowed down his pride. “Can we lay aside the hurts of the past? I love Angie, and I’ll spend every second of my life proving just how much. We want your blessing. We need it. Can you overlook everything that’s happened and give us your blessing?”
A full minute passed before Clay spoke. “No words could ever undo the embarrassment and pain your family caused mine.”
Simon realized that he should have known the old man would demand blood. “What is it you want, then?” He fought back the building anger, clenching his hands so tight that his fingers ached with the effort.
Clay didn’t respond.
“What do you want from me?” Simon repeated.
Silence.
“More money, is that it?”
“Simon,” Angie cried. “Don’t do this.”
“If you don’t want money, maybe I could—”